


A Beginning

by SexyAsswoMan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, And fluff of course!, I just realized all i ever write is fluff, I love coffee shops Aus, Its a famous-non famous AU..sort of, M/M, Meet-Cute, Ohh well, Okay what else?, Poet Louis, Sort of poet Harry? I guess, Student Harry Styles, Thats right people!, Well lets see, Yey!!, lots and lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 06:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11617989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SexyAsswoMan/pseuds/SexyAsswoMan
Summary: Harry had been in love with Louis Tomlinson since he found his poetry blog years ago. Without even knowing how the man looked like, Harry was infatuated with him.So when he gets a chance to meet Louis for the first time, Harry is set on making an impression. That is until he gets distracted by the blue eyed stranger that sits beside him.Or,Where Harry was in love with a poet, and the stranger that sat beside him on a poetry session had eyes that looked like the sea.





	A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Na%20me/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-n%20ames-prompt). 
> 
> This fic was inspired from number  
> 985\. The annoyence when you realize how far off base you were without even realizing it  
> Idk if I did Justice to the plot but I tried :)
> 
> I'd also like to say that the poems used in the fic were written by me. So please bare with them since they lack the poeticness :3

**A Beginning**

 

Poetry had always been something Harry held close to his heart.

He remembers the first poetry book he received from his Nan when he was fifteen, a simple worn out addition of New Hampshire by Robert Frost, and for some reason, Harry was enhanced by it. His fifteen year old self loved just how some mere words could express vast amount of emotions if you just used them correctly, and he had lost himself among it.

He remembers the love he had for the book. So much that he had the line _“And miles to go before I sleep.”_ Written in big bold letters on his bedroom walls. (It wasn't his best artwork considering he had a shitty handwriting but it was the feeling that counted.) He soon found himself searching out for more poems to read. From Shakespeare to Dickinson, Harry had read it all and by the time He had finished his Sixth Form, Harry had a vast knowledge of poetry more than any seventeen year old should have.

It wasn't until eighteen Harry started to take an interest on the modern side of poetry. He was a classic lovers himself, drowning in deep cryptic poems written by Wilde and Frost. But Harry had to admit that even though nothing could ever beat classics, some modern poems did speak of something close to home. His own writing was in style of modern, so how could he not appreciate the culture of it?

If it were to be exact, Harry's obsession with modern poetry started with something uncommon.

Instead of being consumed by the more well known writers, Harry had found himself stumble upon a newcomer, who didn't even have a book published at the time when Harry had found him.

The man just had a simple blog to showcase his works, and with one look, Harry had fallen in love with them just like many others.

The man wrote simply. Yet, the words had always struck Harry so deep that he had been left breathless. He told stories through his poems, explained feelings like no others, and Harry was enchanted by it.

The man went by the name Louis Tomlinson.

Louis Tomlinson. The name that actually changed Harry's life forever. Harry didn't know words could affect someone this much until he read what the man wrote. Every single of his poems, every line had left Harry shaken. Sometimes with sadness, sometime with happiness and sometimes with _want._ Because that's what Louis's poems were about. He wrote his poems based on a feeling or a word and it had circled around them until you are dragged into the depth of it. It was magical.

Throughout the years Harry had watched Louis transform, his poems taking new routes and roads and just branching out. Harry would like to think that he had been the proudest when the man published his first book.

Harry remembers ordering it online and waiting ever so eagerly for it to arrive. He remembers the time he got to hold it with his own two hands, and how it had been his favorite book since then.

Harry watched Louis grow, taking pride that he had found him before the man managed to gather a small group of fans. And as days went by, Louis only managed to get better.

Even though his poems were always expressive, the person Louis Tomlinson was rather secretive himself. Even after publishing three amazing poetry books which were adored by the people who read them, Harry still hadn't found a single picture of the man himself.

The handful of book signings or poetry sessions Louis had attended, no one had ever managed to get a picture of him (Harry bitterly wondered why), even though the man never said that he had any issues with them. Harry was unlucky enough to never get to one of his signings, living far away from London at that time and he died every time he heard about Louis going to a new one.

 _“I just like to keep it to myself”_ the mad has said in an interview where he was asked his lack of presence. _“ l want people to know me by what I write, not how I look like”_ were his exact words.

The only vague description Harry seemed to gather over online was that the man himself was utterly beautiful. He was said to have eyes like the deep blue sea and a wild set of soft brown hair. And that isn't really helpful considering a lot of the people in UK had blue eyes and brown hair. So Harry never got to put a mental picture of the man who made him fall in love with modern poetry. But it never stopped him from imagining though.

You see, even though Harry had never seen the man's face, he was a bit in love. Yeap, Harry was in love with a faceless poet he has never met. It sounded crazy. It was more like he fell for the words the man wrote rather than the man himself. But he would be lying if he said he didn't imagine himself sitting around a coffee shop with Louis, holding his hand while he watched the man write away in his notebook. It was a childish dream he knows, but god Harry couldn't help it. He was infatuated with the man, sue him.

Because of this love he had for poetry, Harry found himself joining the poetry club of his uni the second he started studying in London. It was a bit weird considering his major was on business, but Harry managed. After all, love is love.

And Harry just didn't sit around reading poems over poems, no.

He wrote some himself. Although they weren't as rich and meaningful like Louis's one but he still tried. He was a active member of their poetry session held every week where everyone shared their own creation with their group. It was small, it was nice. It was family.

Harry even made some of his closest friends through the club so he was rather fond of the place. He had found Perrie though it after all. She was a wonderful girl who managed to write the deepest poems. Harry loved them. He also loved how he and Perrie both shared a same interest in Louis's poem, Harry being rather intense with his feelings of course.

So when Perrie ran towards him on campus on a tuesday with a bit of hysteria swimming in her eyes, Harry knew something was up.

“Wow there! What got you looking like that?” Harry chuckled as she gave him a glare. Her hair was tied upon a messy bun, the pink strands peeking out from the corners. She looked beautiful as always with her oversized hoodie and skintight jeans.

“Shut up! You won't be much better off yourself after I tell you about it!” She retorted, still looking a bit hysteric as she brushed away the hair from her face.

“And what is that you want to tell me?” Harry asked giving her a smirk and watched Perrie break into a grin.

“You won't believe it!” She said letting out a squeal. “Are you ready to hear this? No you aren't!” She let out a grin that made Harry roll his eyes. Over dramatic as always.

“Stop being dramatic and spill.” he pressed.

“It's going to change your life Hazza! And you'll buy me pizza as a thank you gift.” Perrie sing songed, making Harry snort.

“No I won't.”

“Yes you will.”

“Out with it already!” Harry signed.

“Okay okay.” Perrie said taking a breath. “Guess who is coming to our poetry session this week? Just guess.” she asked giving him a devilish grin.

“Umm—”

“LOUIS BLOODY TOMLINSON THAT'S WHO!” Perrie said letting out another squeal, cutting Harry's heartbeat off in the process.

Shit.

Louis Tomlinson was going to be present in their gathering this Sunday. Shit fucking shit he was going to meet Louis Tomlinson.

“Ho—”

“Well you know Tessy right?” Perrie began cutting him off. “Turns out she has a friend who is friends with Louis–i know the fuck!– and we always have a poet come attend our session every month anyway, so on this month, Stella decided to let Tessy try and see if she could get Louis to come. And get this, THE Louis Tomlinson agreed. Like he actually _agreed_ to come, the fuck! Anywho, It wasn't really confirmed until yesterday and I got the news from Tess just now. It's top secret FYI. And then I ran here.” Perrie finished with a grin.

Harry couldn't believe it.

“I can't believe it..” he said as much.

“Well you better believe it Hazza. We are meeting the love of your life in about, five days.” Perrie said with a skip on her feet. “God I hope he is as beautiful as they say he is. You will be so fucked then!”

“Shut up!”

“You love me!” Perrie said with a smirk. “Now how about that pizza?”

 

********

 

The next five days were spent in hysteria.

Harry was actually going to see Louis Tomlinson. Like in person. It wasn't actually a dream or anything. He didn’t know how to process all that.

One of his biggest reason to move to London was to meet this man one day (although he will never admit it out loud). And now, he was actually going to see him. Moreover, he was going to have to read one of his own poems in front of him.

Shit.

How was harry going to do that!? Harry's poems were shit! Louis was going to laugh all over the place once he hears them!

So yes, Harry was under hysteria. And it wasn’t  good at all. Considering he wanted to create an impression.

Harry's days were spent studying for his upcoming exam and deciding which poem he was going to take to the session.

The thing is, he actually knew which one he wanted to take. But it will be so embarrassing if someone found out the reason why he wrote it. Even if no one does Harry was sure that Perrie would, and if she does, Harry won't hear the end of it.

Harry was _emotional_ okay?

He was was emotional after reading Louis's recent poem about love and happiness and how he found his _home_ in someone else's eyes and Harry just got _emotional._ And then he sat down with his pen. And then that poem happened. He knows that it's childish to get sad and jealous over something so small but Harry couldn't help it. Louis was _his_ discovery dammit! And well...Harry turned into a thirteen year old schoolgirl with a crush whenever it concerned the man. So in Harry's defence, he was in an _emotional_ state.

But whatever state he was in, Harry couldn't deny it was his best creation so far. He was proud of it. And it just kind of stood out.

He was so going to embarrass himself on Sunday. Reciting a poem about his Jealously in front of the man himself.

Harry was in trouble.

 

********

 

Sunday came around far too soon for Harry's liking.

Before he even knew it, Harry found himself walking towards their usual meeting place, with his notebook in hand and Louis's latest poetry book clung to his chest.

He wanted an autograph, sue him.

The small cafe they used for the gathering was half empty when Harry reached the place, his eyes quickly scanning the area to see if he could find any familiar face. Harry knew today will be a bit crowded than usual, with more people coming in to see Louis.

He spotted an empty table around the corner and quickly planted himself there. He wondered if Louis was here yet. Just thinking about it made Harry look around again. Spotting at least 10 sets of people who had brown hair. It was a lost case, he knew. And besides, Louis won't possibly fumble around the room like that, he was probably sitting with the organizers somewhere, drinking tea probably.

So there was no point searching for him. Harry will see him when he gets on stage anyway. And probably ask for an autograph after the session ends. Yeap.

Harry quickly signed his name on the presentation list which was carried around by Cara, noting that Louis won't be getting on stage until the very end.

It was a weird feeling if you asked him, meeting his idol for the first time.

Harry was so lost in his own world that he didn't spot the man taking a seat right beside him. It wasn't until the man let out a cough that Harry broke out of his trance, his eyes landing on the person who gave him a sheepish smile upon their eyes meeting

And holy shit the boy was beautiful.

He had the softest set of  brown hair, his fringe falling ever so softly on his forehead. He looked like he was sculpted by god himself. His cheekbones looking Sharp as blades with thin soft lips to make it all work. And his eyes, now Harry had seen his fair share of blue eyes his entire life, but this, this boy, his eyes looked like he held the sea. And fuck Harry was so drowning in them.

“Hi.” The boy spoke ever so softly, making Harry almost fall of his goddamn chair. Because shit that voice.

“H-hello.” Harry managed to let out a stuttering reply. _Great first impression_ , he thought bitterly.

But the boy didn't look like he noticed or cared, simply smiling at him in return. And shit the boy was speaking again.

“Am sorry, what?” Harry asked trying to get a hold of himself. He can't lose his cool in front of a stranger. Especially a stranger who looked _that_ good.

“I said, do you mind me sitting here?” The boy replied with a small smirk playing at his lips, “It's just that the whole place is sort of crowded and I just don't deal with crowds well.” he finished looking sheepish.

“Ohh yea sure. I don't mind at all. you sitting here that is. Please.” Harry found himself rambling. _Great._ “Are you new? Cause um..I haven't seen you here before.” Harry trailed off, leaving the _if I did I sure as hell would've remembered you_ inside his head.

“You can say that.” The boy replied with a smile.

“Poetry not your thing then?” Harry couldn't help but ask.

“Poetry? Definitely my thing. Gatherings? Not so much.” The boy spoke with a shake of his head.

“Ohh I see, you are here to see Louis as well then, aren't you?” Harry couldn't help but ask in glee. Another fellow Louis fan.

“Umm..yeah I guess?” The boy replied with a small laugh. “I am taking that you are here for the same reason?” He asked.

“Well, yes, I mean _no._ ” Harry fumbled with his words “I mean– I am a regular here, I enjoy the gathering of course. But It will be a lie if I said I didn't come today to meet the man himself.” Harry finished with a sheepish grin, “Who wasn’t right?”

“Riigghtt..” The boy replied with a smirk. “So you uhh..write?”

“Well..I try I guess. It's not something overly great or anything like Louis Tomlinson's ones but, yeah.” Harry replied with a grin.

“A proper fan you are aren't you?” The boy spoke with a chuckle and Harry couldn't help but smile himself.

“He is actually the one who made me fall in love with modern poetry. So yes, he is amazing.” Harry replied as he looked down at his notebook.

“Really?” The boy asked looking curious.

“Yeah.” Harry said with pride. “I actually stumbled upon his blog, even before he published his first book, and I sort of..fell in love? Yeah. I had a rough year back then and his poems just, _spoke_ to me.” Harry finished with a starry look in his eyes.

“Wow.” The boys seemed to look taken aback by his confession, before breaking into a smile himself. “Which one is your favorite?” He asked in a soft voice.

“It's actually the first one I ever read. Its called hurt.” Harry said as he tried to remember the poem. “You know the one with the line _Everything that starts with your name, hurts./Everything that doesn't, hurts twice as much._? You read it right?”

“Uhh..yeah, I did. I liked too. It was kind of _personal._ ” The boy replied with a soft smile before meeting his eyes. “I just realized that I haven't even asked your name..” He gave away a grin and Harry let out a chuckle.

“Ohh yea. I got carried away I guess. Hi, I am Harry, Harry Styles. You are?” Harry asked as he reached out his hand for the man to shake.

“Hi Harry, I am L–”

“Harrryyyyyyyy!!!” Perries loud shrill cut the boy off, breaking them both from their little handshake. “Is he here yet?! Did you see him?!? I heard he is here!!” She all but ran towards them, dropping herself on the chair that was in front of Harry, before her eyes landed on the boy.

“Oh hi! Did I interrupted something?” She questioned while she looked between them.

“No, not exactly.” The boy spoke with a laugh. “Are you asking about Louis Tomlinson?”

Perrie let out a nod before grinning “ I heard he is here! Ohh god I can't hardly believe this! You gonna be okay Haz?” She said giving Harry a evil grin, “our Harry here has this HUG-”

“Okay that's enough! No need to tell my secrets to a person we just met!” Harry spoke, turning to give Perrie a glare. The girl just smiled at him innocently before giving him a look. _He's hot._

 _I know._ Harry looked at her in return.

“I heard that he is going to read us something!” Perrie said going back to the topic. “Something new to be exact.” She finished with a smile.

“Really?” Harry said as his whole face lit up. A new poem from Louis. And they would be the first people to hear it. What even.

“Yeap. It's not confirmed or anything, I am just telling what Tess told me. So we can definitely hope here, whatcha say new boy?” She said turning to look at the stranger, whose name Harry still didn't know yet. Shit

“Yeah, I agree with that. We can surely hope.” The boy replied with a smile.

Before Harry could manage to ask about his name, Stella got up on the stage to announce the starting of the session, making all them quite down on their seats and look ahead.

“You're gonna read up there today?” Harry heard the boy whisper to him.

“Yeap.” Harry whispered back.

“Great. So will I.” the boy said letting out a smile

It was going to be a good day.

 

********

 

The session passed with soft praise and critics exchanged between Harry and the beautiful stranger. Perrie would join along every once in awhile, but it was mostly the both of them, whispering pleased comments as the others presented their poetry on stage.

And soon enough, it was Harry's turn to get up there.

“Goodluck Harry.” The boy gave him a bright smile as he got up to walk to the stage “I know you'll do great!”

“Thank you.” Harry said with an embarrassed smile. Perrie gave him a thumbs up as he passed her, her grin telling him that she was already proud of him. Harry loved this girl.

Harry walked up the steps with his ever shaky legs. It wasn't the first time he had done this. But it was definitely the first time he'd be performing his poem in front of his inspiration. Performing a poem that is about the man himself not to mention. God. Just thinking that Louis was in fact present in the same room as him made Harry shaky with nerves.

So he decided not to dwell on it. He found his eyes slowly traveling to the boy that sat beside him, momentary being blinded again by how beautiful he looked under the soft light.

Harry needed to know his name. And his number.

And when the boy smiled at him, Harry felt calm.

“Hi, my name is Harry Styles, as most of you know. I am a business major, and this a poem I wrote called _Words._ ” harry spoke before he began to read.

 

_I wish I could write down the certain feeling I am feeling right now._

_It’s warm and painful._

_It's soft yet it burns._

_It's so small but the impact it has left is huge._

_And it was caused by mare words._

_Words, which aren’t meant for me._

_Words, which didn't know me at all._

_Words, which aren’t mine._

_Yet I feel it._

_I feel it burn._

_Like fire it burns inside me._

_And how I wish It was me those words were meant for._

_How I wish those lips said my name._

_How I wish those stories revolved around me and me only.._

_How I wish that the one who wrote them, spoke of me instead of someone else._

_In every poem they ever wrote, in every song they ever sang._

_In every puff of their breath, in every strung of their melodic voice that I never heard._

_How I wish they were all meant for me instead of someone else._

 

Harry opened his eyes to find the room bursting into an applause, and he couldn't help but let out a smile.

He glanced at his seat to find the boy applauding loudly, with a big smile smearing on his face that said he had liked what Harry presented. And then there was Perrie, who was also clapping, but judging by her look, Harry knew she knew what this one was about, and boy Harry was going to get it.

“What a lovely poem by Harry.” Stella came to take Harry's place as he climbed down. “We all feel like that sometimes don't we? When he hear a song or watch a movie, we all sometimes go like, _man I wish that was me!_ I can wholeheartedly agree with this. Now..”

Harry blurred out the rest of her words as he walked back towards his seat. All in all, Harry was pleased. He just hoped Louis liked his poem.

“Youuuu..” Was the first thing he heard as he reached his seat.

“It's about _him_ isn't it?!” Perrie turned from her seat excitedly , giving harry a knowing grin that made him blush. “Ohh my god it _is!!_ ” She whisper shouted. “I can't believe this! You wrote a poem out of _jealously!”_ She let out a giggle.

“Shut up!” Harry grumbled as he sat down.

“About who, exactly? If you don't mind me asking that is.” The boy sat beside him said in a rush, making Harry groan. Now he was going to know too. Harry was again going to embarrass himself in front of the beautiful stranger.

“About _Louis_ of course!” Perrie said with a smirk making the boy do a double take.

“A-about Louis?” The boy questioned looking gobsmacked. Harry was sure that he found him creepy by now, great.

“Well no- i mean yes but no, not about him I-” Harry trailed off with a blush high on his cheeks. “It’s just, he wrote such a lovely poem you know, the one with the line _“I think i’ve found my home in you”_ and it just made me uhh.. _twitchy?_ It was just so beautiful an-”  
  
“And it made our poor Hazza _jealous!”_ Perrie finished in glee.

“Shut up!” Harry whined.

“What? It’s the truth! Don’t be embarrassed about it. Whatever it is, it brought out a great poem” Perrie gave him a grin. “Isn’t it right _stranger?”_ She looked at the boy in question.

The boy was still looking at Harry, his eyes holding something harry couldn’t put his finger on. And then the boy smiled. Ever so bright and beautiful that it actually made Harry’s heart pull to a stop.

“I agree. It was a beautiful poem Harry. _I_ loved it.” he spoke in a soft voice as he looked directly towards Harry. And for a moment, everyone else in the room seemed to vanish.

The boy was mesmerizing, Harry won’t deny that. Harry had met his fair share of beautiful men but no one seemed to even come close to what he was seeing right now. Because when this boy smiled, the world seemed to bow down a bit. And sue harry if he was already waxing poetic about him after knowing him for an hour. Harry was a poet After all.

“There you are! I’ve been looking _everywhere_ for ya you git!” A loud Irish voice broke the two boys out of their trance. Harry turned around to spot the owner of the loud voice, finding a boy with blond hair, standing beside their chairs with a stern look on his face.

“What ya doing sitting around? They are asking for ya! I almost thought ya left or something’” The boy said as he let out a sigh. “Common Tommo, let's _move._ ” He said with a usher of his hand.

And the boy beside Harry stood up with a chuckle.

“Sorry Nialler. I was just talking to Harry here and time just got the best of me.” He said as he gestured towards Harry with a smile before looking at both of them. “Guys, this is Niall, my best friend. And Niall, this is Harry and this here is Perrie.” he spoke with a gesture.

“Lovely meeting you both. I'd love to stay and chat, I really would, But Tommo here needs to come with me now, so we’ll catch ya after the session ends? If ya guys decide to wait for us that is.” the irish boy spoke in a rush.

“Will you? Wait for us i mean” the boy, _Tommo_ said giving them a hopeful look.

“Of course we will! You go on!” Perrie took his words out of his mouth, leaving Harry to nod along. And Tommo let out a smile.

“Wait for me.” he said looking at Harry before walking off. And Harry was left breathless once again.

“You _still_ have no idea who that was do you?” Perrie said giving him a smirk.

“What?”

“Oh nothing nothing.” Perrie grinned mischievously.

 

********

 

It wasn’t long before Stella again took over the stage.

“Okay, this was a lovely session, as always. Every single poem had their own story to tell and it was amazing. And i am sure our special guest agrees as much. So without further ado, I'd like to welcome Louis Tomlinson on stage, so he could share his thoughts with us and give us some advice in ways we can all improve.”  
  
Hearing that made Harry jump in his seat. Louis was going to be on stage now. Harry was finally going to see his face.

But there was one thing that bothered him greatly.

 _Tommo_ or the blue eyed stranger, never made it up on stage. He told harry he was performing so what had happened? He didn’t even spot the Niall kid around either. Did they leave or something?

“Give a warm welcome to _Louis Tomlinson!”_

Harry looked up to see a familiar pair of blue shirt walking over to the stage. And his heart caught his throat when he realized who it was.

Holy fucking shit.

In the middle of the stage stood none other than the beautiful stranger himself, appearing small and delicate as ever under the soft light that hung over him. Their eyes met the second Harry looked up, and the boy gave him a bright knowing smile, before turning his attention towards the audience in front of him.

Harry just had an hour long conversation with _the_ Louis Tomlinson. Harry had fangirled over Louis Tomlinson in front of _the_ Louis Tomlinson. Harry had admitted he wrote a poem for Louis Tomlinson to _the_ Louis Tomlinson. Harry thought that _the_ Louis Tomlinson was a normal boy and he himself had a _chance_ with him.

Shit fucking shit shit shit.

Harry didn’t know weather to be embarrassed of his foolishness or to cry and hide so that no one could find him or to be annoyed at himself cause _shit fucking shit how did he not notice!!!!_

_He had THE BLUE EYES FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!! And the brown hair!!! How didhe not!_

“Surpriseeee!” Perrie sing songed beside him, making him turn to glare at her.

“You _knew!!”_ He hissed making her grin even harder.

“Of course i did! The description fitted _perfectly!_ I am surprised it took you _this_ long!” She said looking amused as ever.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry whined this time, covering his face with his hand.

“What? Tell you and watch you have a meltdown in front of him and ruin the fun? Hell no! Besides, he seemed into youuu..” Perrie nudged harry with an arm, making the boy whine again. “Stop with the drama now. Your boy is talking.”

And Harry slowly looked up.

“Hi. My name is Louis. I saw that every single one of you gave a small description about yourself when you got up here so i think it’s only fair i gave one of mine. Well, I _write._ ” Louis said earning a small chuckle from the room. “Small bits of this and that, which people has come to call poetry for some reason. I still don’t get why people like them, but I am ever thankful as always that they do. I don’t actually deal with crowds well, so I like to stay home and keep it to myself most of the time. But for some reason, when my friend Niall mentioned this gathering, I found myself agreeing to tag along. And I am so glad I did. Because if I hadn’t I wouldn't have gotten a chance to hear all of these amazing poems that were presented here today and I wouldn’t have met some amazing people.” he said giving a glance towards where Harry sat.  
“As for advice? I don’t think you can actually give any advice on writing poems. They..uh well, they come from your heart yeah? So, just let your heart speak up. Because the heart, it says so _much!_ And what it says is beautiful most of the time. So the only advice I have for you all is, just keep on letting your heart sing. Because those songs are what poetry is made of.”

A loud applause broke the second Louis stopped speaking, and he broke into the brightest smile as he looked around the room.

“Thank you. Now, like everyone else, I also have a poem to share with you guys. It's pretty new and pretty rusty. And I hope you all like it. It’s called,” Louis paused before looking directly where harry sat, making his heart again climb up to his throat as Louis spoke the next words. _“A Beginning.”_ and Louis began to read out aloud.

 

 _"What is love?" The boy asked with his eyes wide open, as he took in the world in front of him._  
_"Is it the ocean?" He asked as he stood in front of the sea._  
_"Is it the rain??" He asked as he took in the waters falling from the sky._  
_"What is love?" He asked again, as the questions colored his eyes and painted them blue and he looked around in wonder._ _  
_ "Is it the mountains? Or is it the snow that covers them?" He asked as walked around the highlands, snow soaking his feet.

_“Is it the stars? Or is it the sky that hold them?” He looked above to see the vast unknown._

_“Love is none of those.” Said a stranger and the boy stopped to look at him._

_The stranger had eyes like the ocean, vast and deep._

_His voice was soothing as the sound of the rain._

_His skin was fair as the snows on the mountain and his presence was the mountain itself, solid and strong._

_And when the stranger smiled, the boy saw stars and moons and galaxies surround them._

 

 _As realization began to color the boy's eyes, he spoke, “Love is_ **_a beginning.”_ **

 

Louis spoke the last words directly looking into Harry’s eyes, with a soft smile tucked into the corner of his lips. And Harry felt like his whole world had just melted.

 

Everything after that felt like a blur. He doesn’t remember when the session had ended, he doesn’t remember what else Louis had spoken of, what else he had done. Because all Harry was stuck on to was the way Louis looked when he directed those words towards Harry. And after that nothing else mattered.

It wasn’t until Louis was again standing in front of him that Harry finally broke out of his trance.

The boy was looking at him with the same soft smile he had before  he gestured towards the chair that was beside Harry.

“Shall we begin?” he asked in a hushed tone.

And Harry had never smiled brighter.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Well there ya go! Hope you like it! Kudos and comments are welcomed!  
> come and say hi to me on [tumblr!](http://thesexyasswoman.tumblr.com/)


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